


everybody's fucking in a u.f.o

by plastics



Category: Original Work
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Mentions of Casual Sex, Pining, Workplace Relationship, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:08:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23115235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plastics/pseuds/plastics
Summary: Jahme had heard plenty of gossip about the -X- in boot camp: A bunch of amoeboid hippies, the weak link of the Allied GALAXY, a waste of a security force.And, despite all that, he was all of ten steps off the ship when he thought to himself,Aw, fuck.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character, Playboy Alien Prince/His Human Bodyguard
Comments: 13
Kudos: 48
Collections: Teratophilia Trade 2020





	everybody's fucking in a u.f.o

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nununununu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/gifts).



They’re 36 hours into the lockdown and less than a single hour into Jahme attempting to retell the Lord of the Rings trilogy by memory when Uz-edi’oxu-keoli’leo—Uzi—lifts his head and says, “You know what I _haven’t_ heard before? A human penis.”

“You don’t hear a penis,” Jahme responds as evenly as he can, after a pause. “And where have you heard Tolkien?”

Uzi waves a dismissive hand. “These are the things that are hard to learn through pornography, Jahme. All the more reason for a real-life demonstration.”

It always amazes Jahme how easily the -X- mimic expression, culture. While it wasn’t polite to adknowledge, there were plenty of species in the known universe with whom socializing felt like trying to communicate with a particularly dense rock or early AI. And even them, the -X- got along with. Even the casual way Uzi sprawled across Jahme’s bed—a _bed,_ a real, comfortable bed, a hundred and fourteen systems over from the Milky Way—all felt more more human and familiar than the other humans he ran into this far from Earth, sometimes. 

Except Jahme could never get a place this luxurious on Earth; even the spare heir’s security got quarters better than most five-star hotels. At first it felt like being surrounded by faux faultlessly-friendly hotel staff, too, but it was hard not to slide into the comfort of it all. But he knows it isn't unique to him, either. All the more reason for him to respond, “You cannot convince me you’ve never encountered ‘a real-life demonstration’ with a human penis before.”

Uzi’s features pull into something very close to a classical shocked expression, which is impressive given he doesn't have a classical mouth, nose, eyes, or bone structure. “Are you trying to _shame_ me?”

“If you were actually capable of such a thing, I suppose it could be construed that way.”

He pouts. “It is rude to insult my ability to seem like it. And your kind is all so far away, I genuinely haven’t! I heard the tekalees are similar, but…” the tekalees were notoriously, figuratively and literally, prickly. Uzi still politely finishes, “I found that the ambassador’s son and I were not particularly compatible.”

“It’s for the best,” Jahme says before haltedly adding, “Not that any of this is any of my business. Or appropriate to discuss.”

It's hard to maintain professionalism on ‘X’. Hard for Jahme. The -X- are uncannily peaceful, and nothing much ever came to their doorstep. Hell, even the lockdown is just because a fantasma flew in that needed to be handled by a specialty team. That’s why it made a good first assignment for most guys—learn the process without too much risk—but Jahme is soft. He got sucked into the ease of it all. If he had any sense, he would have reported back to his superior and demand a transfer, say he’s been at the post for long enough and he deserves something reflecting his education and experience. Admit to being compromised.

Instead, Jahme doesn't even flinch as Uzi slides closer and presses his head to Jahme’s bare shoulder, his gills—well, not technically gills, but they look about the same—running parallel up the length of his face fluttering gently. It feels intimate. It _is_ intimate, but it hasn't taken long for Jahme to realize that intimate is the level Uzi operates on at all times. Those first few X’ian months, Jahme had gotten whiplash try to get used to how close the ‘X’ get, to how much closer Uzi got, to how close Uzi got with just about everyone.

“But I’m so bored, Jahme,” Uzi whines, the deep purr vibrating down Jahme’s arm.

It sends a flush across Jahme’s face and his legs, pathetically, go weak. Stupid. Shouldn’t have even let things get this far. Carefully, he extracts himself and says, “This isn’t appropriate, Your Highness.”

Uzi groans again. _“Lame,_ Jahme.”

“I’m going to make my rounds,” Jahme responds as he shrugs on his uniform jacket. It would just be the hallway and back, twice, but it gives him the time to clear his head.

  
  


Any clarity Jahme gained is immediately lost when it came time to sleep. 

They're sharing the bed. Jahme had tried to sleep on the floor the first night, but Uzi had followed him down, making some argument about hospitality and Jahme’s comfort being his comfort, and, well, you couldn’t very well allow your royal charge to sleep on the floor. So they lie next to each other, a few feet apart, Jahme’s chest rising and falling, Uzi mirroring.

It's a mistake. Clearly it is a mistake, and it becomes even more apparent now, lying next to Uzi, wondering if he had been telling the truth. Uzi has always been friendly. Charming. Prone to fucking anyone who drifts through his family’s court and then stands still for five minutes.

Could he _really_ have never encountered a dick? Jahme isn't in the habit of letting himself think about Uzi and and his escapades, but it doesn't feel possible. He’s stood guard outside many a bedroom, bathroom, closet, and it had always been—again, Jahme doesn't let himself think about it, picture what Uzi must be doing, what he must look like, but given the general audio and tempo of the instances, Jahme had to assume that things went well with the involved parties. Many times over.

But never with a dick. Which Jahme has, and Uzi wanted. At least in theory.

It shouldn’t be enough to keep Jahme awake. It isn't allowed to. _Uzi_ isn't allowed to, outside Jahme’s regular concerns for his safety, well-being, and happiness. The whole thing has gone on too long. What if something serious was actually happening, and Jahme was too distracted by Uzi’s advances? Which are more based in curiosity than sincerity, anyway, so they shouldn't make Jahme's heart twist. 

Jahme is curious, too. Pathetically, desperately curious. 

This whole thing has been going on for too long. When things let up, Jahme tells himself that he would request a transfer. He has the experience. He put in the hours. And another cycle with Uzi might actually drive him insane, if he isn't already, blurting out, “Have you really never slept with someone with a dick?”

Jahme didn’t break eye contact with the roof’s silver detailing even as he felt Uzi drop the sleeping act and slide closer. “I really haven’t,” Uzi says, and it is truly unfair that Jahme’s babel fish could translate crooning.

“Do you really want to?”

“I really do,” Uzi says. His touch is cool, almost amphibious, as it slid beneath Jahme’s shirt. It isn't the first time—Uzi has never been shy—but it sends his heart racing. “I think I’d be good at it, too.”

Uzi doesn’t always have arms, and he doesn't always have fingers, but it all somehow feels familiar as Uzi’s hand drifted down Jahme’s chest. Jahme can feel his heart beating in his ears and his dick, and he probably shouldn’t be so ready, so easily, but he is, and when Uzi wraps his fingers around Jahme’s cock, it’s already twitching and hot.

He jolts as pleased vibrations shake through Uzi, tingling as he Uzi presses closer, head pressed back to his shoulder, his neck. “Good? Is it good?”

Uzi’s grasp was weak but slick, eager, making Jahme jerk as he passes over the head. “Yeah, babe, just like that.”

Jahme feels Uzi’s hand and his head moisten, and it feels _good._ His head feels heavy, and it takes effort to pull a thought out, something he wants, and that he’ll probably never get another chance to do: “Can I—is there anything I can do?”

Uzi drags his head up and presses it against Jahme’s as Uzi reaches for his arm and brings his hand up to Uzi’s face, against his gills. They feel even wetter by touch, and when Jahme presses, Uzi preens deep and satisfied as his filaments flicker beneath Jahme’s touch. 

“This does it for you?” Jahme asked, amazed, as his hand pressed around, getting soaked as Uzi presses forward and nods. “These? Fuck, how many times have you laid your head on me? In public? And you just never bothered to mention that these are your—”

“I _like_ you,” Uzi interrupted, and even though Jahme wants to be annoyed or embarrassed, it just cut free the tension in Jahme’s gut. Uzi seemed to have lost track of the concept of hand at some point, and Jahme’s dick felt completely surrounded, shaking along with Uzi.

  
  


The next morning, they're awoken by a servant bringing breakfast. Jahme jolts up, trying desperately to cover himself and Uzi.

“Good morning, boys!” Ki-luu’ixh-tyleh’quo said brightly as she rolled in the tray. 

“Uh, Ki-luu-tyleh, I—”

“If my arrival didn’t make it obvious enough, the lockdown has officially been lifted! We didn’t see either of you in the dining hall nor hear any response to our messages, so us down in the kitchen just thought we’d bring first meal to you!”

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Jahme begs.

Ki-luu’ixh-tyleh’quo scoffs. “Please, it’s only to be expected! Prince Uz-edi-keoli is very charming.” And while it isn't physically possible, Jahme felt the energy of a wink cross the room.

“Oh, _excellent,_ Ki-luu! Thank you so much, would you mind bringing it to the bed?” Uzi says, and Jahme could hardly stand looking at him, morning-after and confident and _casual._ He falls silent, watching him and Ki-luu’ixh-tyleh’quo chat as a small feast is laid out across the bed. Everything feels too obvious in the light. Of course no one here would care about Jahme violating basic principles of his training. That isn't why he held off. Not really.

Later, once Uzi drifts off to his official duties and hobbies, Jahme would draw back, for real this time. Send out his request. But for this morning, Jahme will let Uzi lean against his side and coax him into extra bites of something that mostly tastes of raspberries.


End file.
